


rivalries and red lace

by catmanu



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Champions League, Croatian National Football Team, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, More Sejan in 2020, Translation Available, Underwear Kink, switchy Sejan is best Sejan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:21:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22797730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catmanu/pseuds/catmanu
Summary: “So.  Whoever wins our first Champions League game gets to choose how we spend the night?” Dejan confirms.“Yeah, that’s the idea.”“I like it.  My genius.”Or: Šime always has the best surprises.
Relationships: Dejan Lovren/Šime Vrsaljko
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	rivalries and red lace

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Противоборство и красные кружева](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23679724) by [mmandarine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmandarine/pseuds/mmandarine)



A little rivalry is always good for Dejan’s soul.He barely goes soft after coming for Šime on WhatsApp, and he makes Šime stay on the call and pout his pretty lips for him as he goes for another round.His hand hurts; his dick is getting sore, but what is Dejan Lovren if not strong?

“Where is my Šime to help me clean this up?” he sings when he’s done, pointing at his stomach. 

“One day I’ll teleport, I promise.”

“Prove you love me.Do it now.”

Šime flicks his tongue out, wiggling it at Dejan, and licks his lips. “Mmmm.Delicious. _Ajjj lajjjjk_.”

Dejan will never tire of the way Šime’s eyes crinkle up with laughter.And they do that so often. He is lucky.

“So.Whoever wins our first Champions League game gets to choose how we spend the night?” Dejan confirms.

“Yeah, that’s the idea.”

“I like it.My genius.”

“Don’t compliment me too hard.I’m pretty sure Luka and Ivan do the same thing after the Clásico.”

“Oh really?” Dejan’s eyebrows arch.“I’m not surprised but…how do you know?”

“Just do,” Šime smirks.

“Hmmm. Well…I’m very much looking forward to beating Atlético,” Dejan says, stretching out on his side to let Šime admire his gleaming-wet six-pack.“I already know what I’ll have you do.”

“Course you do, you’ve practiced it on Mo already, I’m sure.”

Dejan’s cheeks grow red.“Fuck off.”

“Truth hurts, brate, huh?How do you know you’ll win?”

Dejan snorts.“Last I checked I’m on the team that’s kicking ass, and your team keeps making it onto the ‘What’s going on with ______ this season?’ lists.”

“I’m optimistic,” Šime laughs.“Getting to choose what I do with you will inspire me…Gonna score a hat trick.”

“As a right back?You truly are a god.Every bit worthy of my worship, hmmm?”

Šime brushes some curls away from his eyes and smiles soft and slow like ice cream melting in the warm summer sun.“I’m glad you think so, Deki.”

“I _always_ will.Even if you guys lose.”

“Way to ruin the moment,” Šime says, but he’s still got that smile on his face.When he smiles like that Dejan doesn’t ever want to hang up.He’d stare at those lips, those teeth, those eyes until his battery died or he fell asleep, whichever came first.

*

Anger.

Dejan is no stranger to the feeling, but the way this anger mixes with sadness and longing makes him feel almost weak in the face of it, and that’s the part of _love_ he doesn’t care for.Sometimes it makes you weak.It is a terrible side effect.

He can’t believe he’s been left off the squad for the game.His first time to play on the same pitch as Šime in _months. Their_ game.

Apparently Klopp has decided he’s not even good enough to warm the bench?Well, fuck that.He’ll travel to Madrid with pride and sit in a good seat at the Wanda and study the curves of Šime’s luscious ass like a…like a… _boyfriend._

That is what he’ll be.He can do that and he’ll do it as gladly as possible, even though that anger will still be with him.

*

One goal in the fourth minute and that’s it, the game’s done.1-0 Atlético.

Dejan wonders what Šime has planned.His curiosity almost makes up for Liverpool’s loss.It dissolves nearly all his frustration.

*

It takes them a while to get going because they have to hug first, hold each other tight in the privacy of their hotel room and never let go.They have to whisper things to each other and laugh and remember the feeling of being pressed against each other, of their cheeks rubbing together, of their hands exploring each others’ hair. 

Eventually his hands wander down to squeeze Šime’s tempting ass.This is a signal that it’s time to move things along.A very subtle signal, of course.

“Okay, Šime,” he says. “What were you planning?”

Šime takes something out of his bag and holds it tightly in his hand.“This is what I want,” he says, slowly opening his fist right there in the middle of their suite.He’s holding some fabric.He reaches out, offering the mysterious object to Dejan, and when Dejan unfolds it he finds himself holding a pair of women’s underwear, low-cut, made purely of burgundy lace.

“Oh,” he says, his voice soft without meaning it to be. As a tourist, he's been to some beautiful old churches; he feels as awed and reverent now as he ever felt then.

“Put these on me,” Šime says.“This is what I want.”

“Mmmmm.I like this.”

Šime’s surprises are always perfect.And he really does look good in underwear—sometimes, Dejan thinks, better than he looks completely naked.It’s the way the fabric hugs the shape of his ass, the way his v-lines lead Dejan’s eyes to his eager arousal that strains the waistband, the way Šime loves being touched _through_ things. His reactions are different when there’s a barrier between Dejan’s fingers and his skin.

Šime sits at the edge of their bed and Dejan kneels to slide the underwear on.He laughs for a moment as he has to stretch the waistband out to fit it over the semi that’s already sprung up between Šime’s legs.Women’s underwear might be beautiful, but it’s not made for the kind of hard Šime gets.

“Come,” he says, climbing onto the bed and pulling them both back against the nest of overstuffed pillows that rests against the headboard.Maybe the hotel staff got a little carried away setting up the pillows, but with so many there, one fluffier than the next, it’s like he and Šime are sitting on a cloud to do their sinful acts, and well, that’s a thought.He laps at the soft crease where Šime’s neck meets his shoulder as he slides his hand into the lacy underwear and takes hold of his prize.

“How are you so _warm_ under here?” he says.“You’ll burn my hand off.”

Šime can’t really respond; his long lashes are fluttering as Dejan begins to work his fist around the head of his cock, and he lets out a few shuddering moans that vibrate against Dejan’s chest.

“Šime, Šime,” Dejan sighs.“You were made to wear these.I want you to wear things like this more often for me.When we video chat, for example.”

“Y-yeah…I can…I will…”

“And maybe not just then.”Dejan is inspired.So what if he couldn’t make art happen on the pitch today?He will paint a lovely picture with his words right here.“Not just then…no…”He circles his hand over Šime’s balls, cupping them softly, before coming back to his cock with a vengeance.Šime jerks against him.“Why don’t you wear them for me during the day sometimes?And send me a picture so I know.”

“Fuck _yes,_ ” Šime breathes. 

Šime’s so willing, so down for anything Dejan suggests.He’s never met anyone else quite like that.

“And what if—what if you wore them to practice?What if I told you you had to wear them?You’d never betray an order from me. I know you.”

“Deki…” Šime pants.

“How would you keep the guys from seeing them as you changed?It would be such an inconvenience.You’d feel so… _owned._ So _controlled_ by some guy thousands of kilometers away, right?”

“ _Deki…_ please…”

The front of the underwear is growing wet.Šime’s fingers are digging into the blanket.

“Your hands look a little free,” Dejan comments.“Don’t be lazy, you beautiful man.Help me bring you the ultimate pleasure.”He picks one of Šime’s hands up and rests it on the straining bulge in his underwear. 

“I don’t think you need my help for that,” Šime says, but when he slides his thumb over the tip of his cock through the lace, colliding with Dejan’s fist in the best way possible, the moan he lets out betrays him.

“See? It’s better when we share you.” Dejan says. “Now. Come for me.”

“Harder,” Šime demands. Dejan would never ignore his requests. He moves his fist faster, faster.

Šime grabs his wrist, squeezes, digs in, and then soaks the lace, whining in Dejan’s arms. He tenses against Dejan and his shoulders shudder.His orgasm seems endless.His hair is even messier than usual.

“Hey,” Dejan says, removing his hand from its confines at last. “That was a lot. You’ve been doing No Fap February or something?” He licks his fingers to get as much of the familiar taste as possible. ****

“Actually, yes. Sort of.I haven’t touched myself since the last time we called each other.”

“Why?”

“To save myself for you…”

This is so romantic Dejan feels like he’ll melt. He kisses Šime’s sweaty dark curls and snaps the waistband of his underwear. “Take these off now,” he says. “I love them. You were made for them. But I have plans, too.”

“What plans?” Šime asks, sliding the burgundy lace down his thighs.

Dejan _did_ have plans.But watching Šime gracefully strip makes him forget everything.

It usually feels _right_ to top Šime, to fuck him, to make love, to be the one who _does_ however they do it.But not always.He thinks about his role as spectator today, watching Šime defend his team’s honor on the pitch.

“I want you hard again as soon as possible,” is what he says.“How old are you now?25?”

“Are you serious?” Šime asks. "You _know_ how old I am."

Of course he does.“Tell me.”

“I’m 28. Man, you're weird sometimes."

“Ah, see, an old guy like me, he forgets.Anyway.I want you to imagine you’re…younger than that.Whatever age you were that you could get hard again right away.I want you hard again.”

“Well.”Šime barely looks tired.There’s a glint in his eyes; the corners are crinkling up again, but wickedly.Dejan shivers.“I’m with you, of course I can.”

Dejan pushes Šime down, flipping him so he’s on his stomach. “Lift your hips, dragi.Lift.”

Šime obeys.Dejan notes the sweat glimmering on each perfect ass cheek and begins teasing Šime’s rim with his thumb, playing with it, caressing it like the treasure it is, but no more than that.

“That’s good, Šime, that’s good,” he whispers as Šime moans again, squeezing around his thumb.“Do you know why I’m doing this to you?”

“I’m not really in the mood to guess.”

“Because I want you inside me, Šime, I want you to take me.I want you to own me.You’re the winner tonight.”

“Just of this game— _fuck,_ Deki—”Dejan’s crouched down to mouth at Šime’s cock, licking away the sweat and come from before and it’s warm against his lips.“Mmmmm,” he breathes, taking in the taste.Whatever they’re doing is working. He runs his tongue along Šime’s cock, tracing the vein.

“You good now?” he asks after a few minutes.

“Yeah, I’m—Let me prep you, come on,” and they trade places, Šime taking the lube that Dejan had thoughtfully removed from his bag earlier and beginning to open Dejan up, his fingers curling in just the right way and hitting just the right spots.

It’s all too easy for Dejan to relax tonight.The room smells like Šime, like sex with Šime, his winner, his Champions League champion, and “ _Fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me,”_ he’s begging, whining, hoping there aren’t any badly-timed Croatian tourists in the room next door. 

“Do you _have_ to be so loud?” Šime asks.“You’ll wake the whole place up.”

“They can’t understand me.”

“Pretty sure they’ll figure it out anyway.”

Dejan gets ready, leaning forward on his elbows with his ass up in the air for the whole world to see—well, just for Šime to see, but Šime is the whole world right now—and Šime’s cock, damp and fully hard again, brushes against his thigh but goes no further.

“Did you forget what to do?” Dejan asks.“Poor thing.”

“No, actually…I know just what to do. Open your loud mouth, Deki.Open, open...”

Suddenly Šime is shoving the lacy underwear into Dejan’s mouth.That familiar taste that had been on his fingers before, well…now it’s magnified, his mouth full of the soaked fabric. “Mmmmm?” he mumbles in surprise.

“Okay, that’s better.And _now_ —”

Šime rubs his cock up and down over Dejan’s hole and then slides in like it’s nothing.Dejan hisses and arches against him and when he breathes in, his mouth and nose are full of the taste of Šime. It’s going to be like this the entire time Šime fucks him, he thinks.He’s already overstimulated and it’s exactly what he wants. 

Šime doesn’t hold back, fucking into him with sharp deep thrusts—he shifts and hits Dejan’s prostate and aims his thrusts there.He is relentless, a caveman, an animal, and Dejan sucks wildly at the red lace in his mouth.He thinks he’s drooling.

“Won’t last too long, Deki, you’re so hot,” Šime gasps from behind him, his voice strained, tired, higher than normal.He folds himself over so his stomach rests against Dejan’s back, pressing Dejan down into the mattress so his cock rubs against the blanket.That’ll be enough to get him off.Fuck—he probably doesn’t need _any_ help to get off, no help but Šime’s cock in his ass and his underwear in his mouth.Sime’s elbows cradle his head.It’s hard to fuck in this position, but Šime works miracles, Šime is worthy of worship. 

He groans in Dejan’s ear and Dejan can’t help but rock his aching cock into the blanket, knowing he won’t last much longer with Šime going at his prostate as hard as he is, and it’s all over once he hears Šime cry out his name and then feels warmth deep inside him. _OhmygodŠimeohmygodŠime_ he thinks, since he can’t say it with the red lace in his mouth, and moans pathetically and unstoppably till he feels his cock pulse hot and he shoots all over the blanket. 

He can’t stop moaning even once he’s done.He just lies there limp on the blanket and makes noise.

Šime’s fingers invade his mouth and pull the underwear out.Dejan licks at his fingertips in thanks.Maybe everything will taste like Šime for the rest of his life now.It could be worse.

“What the hell do we even do with ourselves right now?” Šime asks, rolling onto his back.“That was sort of epic.I don’t want to just go to sleep or something.”

Dejan sprawls out on his back next to him, his whole body still shaking slightly.“Well, you could start by getting me a towel.”

“You can’t get it yourself?”

“This mess is your fault.”

“How is it my fault?”

“I mean, you didn’t have to come in my ass, dragi.”

“Of course I did.”Šime kisses him on the forehead.Somehow this turns into a kiss on the lips.

“Mmmm, my champion,” Dejan breathes.“Would you like to put the underwear back on?”

Šime wiggles his eyebrows.“You really like it that much?”

“I meant what I said before.I want to see you in it more often.”

Šime nods, serious.“I’ll do it, Deki, I promise.”

“Good,” Dejan says.“And remember…We have another game coming up.”

“Winner gets to choose what we do?”

“Winner gets to choose.”

Dejan knows he is a lucky man.No matter the outcome of their next game, he’ll wind up with Šime in the end.

**Author's Note:**

> More Sejan in 2020, amirite?
> 
> Kudos and comments would make my day! :)
> 
> Talk to me on [insta](https://www.instagram.com/griziwave) or [tumblr](http://theboywiththedejantattoo.tumblr.com)!


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